Don't Take the Red, Red Rose
by White Maid
Summary: Janitor Crowley Fetch is known for being the kid-hater of the school he works at and a big time loner. His only companion is Scott, his fat pit bull pup. But what if there's a few petals that catch his eye? / OOC Sexual Offenderman. One-shot. I tried. 8T


A dark night in the woods wasn't his sort of fun. As a matter of fact, the greasy male hated it, disliking the extra effect of the yellowed street lights to his right. Asphalt scratched tennis shoes faintly scuffed the concrete, watching leaves catch on the occasional autumn breeze and become a flurry of colors.

Sure, it was peaceful and all, but it certainly wasn't his cup of tea. Especially not after having spent a whole day working with kids that really gave him no respect, despite how he wasn't even _that _old. Yet.

Tugging the coat closer around his form, the school janitor reached into his pocket, finding his keys quickly. Not daring to look to the boney limbs of the trees that blended well with the recent lighting. He licked his constantly chapped lips, despite the cold as it was a nervous habit of his. Halloween was fun, but not when he was stuck with the woods near him.

Opening the door took him a little bit, but he got through, the door creaking just as loudly as the wooden floor. Turning his back to the entire place, already knowing what he would see, he shed his coat and hung it upon the rack nearby before locking the door. It clicked and this allowed him to turn around.

His home was many things. Clean not being one of them. Never having a girlfriend, the male simply resigned to living on his own in content solitude, leaving him to freely smoke, not quite clean up and whatever he really wanted. Well, slightly.

In seconds, the male was also tackled over just as he turned around, head smacking into the door hard enough to make him dizzy but not enough to not have him conk out right there. He laughed and ran his hands over the happy pit bull's back and ears, who licked all over his face and stubble, as he hadn't shaved for a couple days. Dog didn't care.

"C'mon, Scott, you're going to get me covered in spit. Oh! Speaking of you and your slobbering tongue, I've got something for you." As if understanding, the dog happily barked before scooting off his play buddy, tiny tail wiggling furiously along the creaky floor. Or maybe he really did understand.

The male got up, stretching and allowing his name plate to glint on his chest before he was digging in his coat pockets. "Alrighty, here ya go. Get 'em!" And he threw the large pig ear and bone. Skittering across the floor, the drooling mutt raced through the kitchen to attack the items, growling in play. Laughing, the janitor soon moved to take off his name badge, pinning it to his coat. It read, 'Crowley Fetch.' What a name…

Shaking his head, he moved to light a cigarette now, taking the pack and lighter from the filthy sink edge. Oh. Great. He was collecting mice. He knew this because what littered all over the gas stove was…a bunch of shit. Literally. Wrinkling his nose, he then moved to light the cigarette, breathing in deeply before letting it out through the side of his mouth.

Removing it for a moment, he packed up the items before sauntering into the living room. Landing on the couch, he naturally flicked the remote into his hand to flip the channels. He stopped cold and groaned loudly, dropping it. "Scott, you damn dog! Just because I say you can't chew, doesn't mean you can slobber on everything!"

Wiping it on his dirt-stained jeans, the male grumbled before rolling his eyes, tapping the arrows and volume bar. After a few hours, flipping through the cooking channels, action, romance and the comedy, the male was very well asleep on the couch, Scott laying across his legs like a fat hot dog. Both snored loudly, drool gradually beginning to cake on the side of their mouths. There wasn't a thing that would be waking these too up when the TV lullabied them to sleep.

At 12:39 pm, October 15th on a Sunday night, there was a not-so-elegant static buzz on the TV that woke the man up. He hated static anywhere on any of his devices, whether it be his phone, TV or radio. It just really ticked him off. Reaching for the remote with a heavy grumble, he searched for it, but gave a sigh.

"Scott…you damn dog." And he yanked the slobbered remote from the pit bull's paws. That dog didn't even stir, much less quirk an ear at the static soon falling silent, unlike Crowley. With the lack of noise, the smoker moved to get up and stretch, forcing him to roll the fat mutt over. With a soft thud and moan of the couch, the sleepy dog laid still, snorting softly.

Crowley rolled his eyes before he moved up and stretched, licking his lips to lick at the drool and wipe it away with his sleeve. He also did it because he felt a strange knot forming up in his hungry stomach. Kitchen time, right.

Walking along with quiet footsteps, he opened the refrigerator door, quick to take out a cold cake he had bought at Walmart. There was only a few slices of it but, oh well, it'd last him for now until he decided to take a hike to the nearest store to buy some fish or something.

With a yawn and the soft scoot of a chair, he began nibbling on the dessert but only got two bites in when his dog let out a rather wolf-like snarl. This caused Crowley to damn near piss his pants and he poked his head into the living room.

"Hey, the hell are you-…" The first thing to catch his eye was the windows, open and allowing a soft breeze to filter in. Another feeling of iciness washed over him, one that wasn't from the wind. "When…were the windows open?"

Crowley moved forward, cake in one hand to close it but frowned. There was not even a single street lamp on. Was there a power outage or something? Heaving a grunt, he shut the stiff window and then locked it, just in case before drawing the curtains back in.

He snapped the curtains open once more, hazel green eyes staring out the window intensely. Because of this, Scott growled louder, his fur rising off his back and those jaws menacingly showing. But the only thing out there was a few trees that blocked his house from sight. Neighbors wouldn't even be able to see his house in the power outage. …But hadn't there been someone right there not only five seconds ago?

The janitor mouth was dryer than usual, causing him to shake his head and go back to his original work, attempting to light a few candles or maybe even an oil lamp.

A single creak echoed through the house. Crowley froze in front of the TV, his mind going overdrive. The only reason the house would make that kind of noise would be if there was someone there. And that was what frightened him now. Both bedroom doors were open, and were always open and with the new information running through his mind.

"Who is in my house!? Come out before I stab you, motherfucker!" He sweating down his back already and he was attempting to light a candle, the sparks flying from his shaking finger on the lighter. It took him an exact minute to get it lit and going, the cake being dropped on the same table.

"I said come out!" He spun around, Scott not letting a single growl pause unless he was going blue in the fur. Crowley gradually made his way over towards his bathroom, raising the light up and clenching his fists, toes curling viciously in his shoes.

He checked everywhere; behind the door, towards the window, in the shower, in the bath, in two closets and even in the cabinets of the sink. There was no one behind the book case, not somehow behind him in the mirror but this was making him worry more. The bedroom still needed to be checked.  
The janitor mustered up whatever courage he could find in his belly and walked in, throwing the door open to have it slam into any form of bodies that were behind it as he examined the room. The first thing he noticed was the floor. Scarlet petals lined the floor in a messy yet elegant pattern and instead of making him calmer, this only increased his panic as he held the light higher.

Scott suddenly barked, causing the male to skyrocket out of his skin and successfully drop the candle. It went out as soon as it fell and he stumbled back, right into the door. It shut behind him naturally and he immediately spun around to try and kick it and beat it open. "How is it locked!?" Scott continued barking loudly for about two minutes, Crowley doing his damndest to try and beat the damn door down, but as far as he knew, he wasn't getting through.

Beads of sweat collected on his brow, he stopped, hearing Scott abruptly do so as well. "Scott? Are you okay? S—" He stopped, suddenly seeing a scarlet rose just now entering his line of sight. Crowley leaped away out of instinct and slammed his head into the nearest bookcase.

He was going to die from banging his head on everything. Rubbing his head, he looked back to the rose. It was such a vibrant color! He definitely would've said it would be the perfect rose to be set in Beauty and the Beast. Or maybe every Disney tale.

Crowley knew his eyes were on it and someone neared his face, forcing him well against the corner of the bookcase. A hand settled on his chest, cold and long but it was light. "Take the rose~," the stranger murmured, voice too low for it to be anything human. "Go ahead, have it all to yourself~."

The male didn't know what to think, his eyes drawn towards the bright red rose. Slowly, he reached a hand out, and his fingers nearly brushed the stem when he noticed the hand on his chest push a bit more. He knew his own heart was beating like a bird's wing beneath those spider-like fingers, and he nervously swallowed before he pulled away.

That hand only flattened more on his chest and he practically felt it crushing his chest now, a looming presence there. "And why not?" The voice was a lower growl now and it made his heart skip a beat beneath his sternum, but he took action and slammed his feet into the intruder's stomach. He noticed they pulled away but he practically felt the pain of the steel that his feet randomly came in contact with. It writhed up his legs and he scrambled for the door again.

Flinging the door open, Crowley dived right for the pacing Scott, picking him up and running straight out of the house. Despite how heavy he was and his lack of furniture, he ran down the street and for the hotel. He knew the stranger would follow. And he would be ready.

A single day passed and the male had lost his paranoia by this point, currently getting back from work. Crowley had decided that this little catastrophe would soon pass by after a certain amount of time, so he would stay here for a week. It was comfier, for sure, and even Scott was happy, chewing on a new chew toy. Again. Crowley was 'not' going back to get a damn thing. That person knew where he lived.

As soon as he walked into his room, unlocking it with a key, Scott pounced on him happily, barking only once before circling him. Crowley smiled and moved to grab the leash off to the side, soon hooking it onto his leash. "Good boy. C'mon, let's go for a walk. Then I'll shower."

The one who took the step forward was Scott, proudly puffing out his chest when people looked at him. By the time both man and dog got out, that pit bull had been pampered like a big ol' puppy. A really overweight puppy. Side by side, they walked around the town, easily finding the park nearby. Crowley kept him on the leash but let him walk around, sniffing butts and licking faces. The janitor spoke to different people, a few kids recognizing his face.

"Crowley?" Looking up from a bench he currently relaxed on, said male blinked and raised an eyebrow. A high school student stood in front of him, nervously clutching her bag. "What are you doing here?"

"Walking my dog," he replied sourly. "What does it look like?"

"…It…looks like your napping rather than walking your dog," she murmured, soon jumping as the large dog rubbed along her legs like a cat. She giggled and moved to pet him, causing Crowley to roll his eyes.

"We've been walking but I don't usually do too much work. I've got arthritis in my knees."

"Ohh… I see." She nodded, lightly laughing as Scott licked her face.

"Careful, he slobbers."

"Ahaha! I can see that. He's so cute. How old is he, Crowley?"

Said male seemed to think, counting on his fingers for a moment. "About…five years."

The female nodded and continued petting the dog. Crowley watched for a moment before looking up. In seconds, he was dropping the leash before beginning to stand, falling right over the bench itself. Lucky for the furniture, it didn't move. "C-Crowley! Are you okay?" Both his companion and the highschooler watched the pained janitor curl up for a moment before standing.

"D-Did you see it!?"

She blinked, looking taken aback. She had never seen a man so scared in his life. Turning her gaze, she looked behind them and shook her head. "No. And what is 'it'?"

Crowley's head attempted to wrap around what he saw, swallowing thickly as his mind flashed back to where he was drawing the curtains close on his house. Just like now, there had been something standing right amongst the park trees, blending in with the dark wood. Tall, slender and dressed in black..

"It…looked like a man without a face… I think." He ran a hand over his face, realizing how much of an idiot he sounded like. But he had actually grabbed her curiosity as Scott sat up on the bench and gently nuzzled his owner's face in comfort.

"A man…with no face? Was he pale?" He raised an eyebrow, looking at her. Had she seen it, or know what it had been?

"…Yeah."

"Wear black?"

"Pretty sure."

"Abnormally tall?"

"Too tall—wait, wait, whoa, whoa, whoa." Crowley held his hands up, looking at her as he stopped, setting a hand on his dog's head. "Do you know what it is?"

Energetically, the blond nodded before leaning forward, speaking in a soft tone. "It's called a Slender. If he wears a suit, that's the Slenderman."

He blinked at her as she seemed to get an idea. "How do you know this?" he asked, watching her write down something on a notepad in a pink pen. "And what the hell are you doing?"

Without a word, she stuck the sticky note to his face and smiled. "My name's Autumn. Ironic, isn't it? If you have any questions, call me." And she left without a word, suddenly fishing out a laptop from her bag as she walked quickly back to…somewhere.

Grunting in irritation, the male pulled off the sticky note. It was covered in cute kittens in baskets and pink hearts. The dark pink pen didn't stick out too greatly but it was illegible, even in the doctor's handwriting.

'I know how to help you. Call me tonight.' And she left her phone number right there, neatly written in so-called "Cutesy" hand-writing. "…I guess I will." Pocketing it, he stuffed the piece of paper away before grabbing the leash again. Scott jumped down from the bench and once the janitor was prepared, both were walking once again, back to the hotel.

Getting to the front door of the hotel, he waited for a couple to exit the rotating doors before slipping on end, Scott then suddenly deciding to nearly drag him to the room. He was excited to just get in the room and lay down, causing the dark-haired male to trot after him.

"Alright, alright, we're here, slow down you big mutt." He patted the pit bull's side, who panted happily before dashing inside, the door open and leash off. Leaping like batman, he moved onto the quilt, circling a few times before laying splat on the top of it. Crowley chuckled and decided to freshen up a bit. After all, the only clothes he had one him were the ones on his own body right now. Going back home to get new? Hell. No.

Thinking about it, he knew there was no damn way he'd go back. Not even for a millisecond. Moving over to the bathroom to shower, it seemed as if everyone heard the manliest shriek in the world, Scott snapping his head up.

Crowley was soon out of the room, racing right through the halls and nearly falling in front of the front desk. "S-Sir?" A young man blinked but flinched away as the male slammed his hands on the table, hazel eyes narrowed in sheer anger. "Just who was the one to find it funny to sneak into my room and drop a dead deer in my bathtub!?"

Both attendants made a wide-eyed and paling face, clearly unsure if the male was senile or not. "I'm. Not. Joking!" he snarled, leaning well over the countertop and making the female scoot back in her chair. "O-Okay, sir. We'll have someone up right now." And, indeed, the young male followed. In an hours' time, both men, and a few policeman worked with getting the gutted animal out, an older maid cleaning up the blood. By the time it was nine o'clock was the male finally able to shower. Not bathe, shower.

Stepping into the shower, he made sure the water was lukewarm before stepping in, swearing he kept seeing bloodstains still in there. There was heavy surveillance around his room now, the window was locked as well as the door and almost all the lights were on. Scott was well under the bed, snoring and his arse sticking out from under.

Crowley, in the meantime, seemed to be thinking, forearms pressed against one side of the wall and his back accepting the slight massage. It was fifteen minutes in before he opened his eyes, staring at the water that swirled around his ankles, thanks to the bathtub stopper being in. Moving, he attempted to turn it off but stopped cold just as it switched off.

What caught his full-blown attention was the scarlet flurry of petals floating and bobbing around his feet. His head turned and he swallowed softly, seeing an incredibly tall and slender silhouette just behind the white curtains. By this judgment, as his legs gradually became more and more numb, he saw the hat and trench coat. It was all he needed to become that not-so-loveable hypocrite and know he was dealing with a bad stranger. It was that dark man that was always seen in the horror movies but what was worse was that he couldn't even scream, even when that white hand shot out from around the curtain and grabbed his face.

Crowley felt his entire body be pushed back into the higher bits of water and all he could think about was drowning right where that damn animal had been draining at. He clawed and writhed under the water, those cold fingers continuously dunking him in and out. He couldn't see because of that and he was gasping for air, even when he spoke.

"W-what do you want from me!?" Nails digging into the creature's hand, Crowley felt that next chuckle go right through his heart and spine, causing him to shudder tremendously. It was clear this 'thing' knew no boundaries, and wanted whatever it wanted.

"I want you to accept my offer~," the voice purred. "I want you to accept my offer so everything can be done and I don't have to stalk you."

"S-Stalk me!?" He was dunked under the water before he could really finish his sentence. Crowley attempted to thrash about but something pushed his arms and legs down into the water, his air quick to run short and have his head spinning once he was pulled out. Gasping, he heard the other speak again.

"If you don't keep your voice down, I'll keep it down for you." But the male knew the other was having too much fun with his own torture to really be worried about how loud he was. He wasn't surprised.

"F-Fine," he muttered, gradually beginning to breathe a bit easier. "But…answer me this. Who 'are' you?" The other seemed to snicker before leaning way too close for the janitor's liking, who attempted to lean back against the bath as much as he could.

"Typically, I'm your worst nightmare, boy but I'm also the next person who's going to suck you dry~."

"Why?"

"Because you didn't accept what I offered~." The male blinked behind the hand, even though that helped him with nothing. Did he…mean the rose? Pinching his lips together hard, he felt the eyes of the creature on him but with its hand in the way, it was hard to actually know what was going on.

"You mean—"

"Yes, the rose." And something brushed against his lips, causing him to jerk back a bit. Okay, he knew that was the rose! Thinking about taking it, for some reason, was very displeasing to the other.

"If I accept it…will you finally leave me alone? Also, you never gave me your name." With blind fingers, ones that quivered, much to his dismay, he attempted to find the item. His fingers wrapped around the piece and the hand pulled away finally, allowing him to look up at the laughing creature now.

Crowley's heart died in his throat as he tried to press himself in the corner, that pale, blank face staring at him. "My name is Sexual Offenderman~." The male pressed himself away, as if he would blend in with the wall but the thing only got closer. "And now that you've accepted, you're a new buddy for me~."

The 5:00am alarm went off beside the male's head, causing him to groan and slowly turn over. He felt like hell and couldn't remember at all. Perhaps he had fallen asleep here once he got home? Wait... Home!?

He bolted upright and nearly screamed, feeling his entire body ache with every movement he made but just as quick as it had come, it disappeared in seconds, causing the cold sweat to disappear. The hell? Was that some sort of pain seizure he had?

"Oh, shut the hell up!" And he nearly smashed the clock, startling the dog that sat at the foot of his bed. Scott, eagerly leaped up and licked his cheek, but stopped. Groaning, Crowley moved his face in his hands, looking at himself. He wasn't clothed at all and this made him worry. Why couldn't he remember!?

Running late made him almost forget it all but what surprised him was the fact that he had walked in and everyone had nearly crapped their trousers. Sent home, his nose constantly bleeding, he laid on the marble floor of the kitchen about 10:02am, tired and dizzy. The hell was wrong with him? Was there something wrong with his ears, with his senses…?

Gradually, he fumbled for his cellphone, cursing it was nearly out of battery. There was one thing he 'could' remember and that was the cellphone number he had put in after the hotel trip. Dialing slowly, wheezing, he called her then paused, quickly canceling it before sending a text message instead. Right. School.

'its Crowley.'

Two minutes later, she responded. 'hey. I saw u walk home. U k?'

'no I got some sort of sickness. My nose wont stop bleeding and I cant get up.'

For a long moment, he stared at no new texts for about five minutes but it finally popped up. 'u have the slender sickness. Look it up'

'k'

And after twenty minutes, he was able to stand and walk to his computer, falling into the chair and letting it wake up after a long two months or so. Slowly, he typed in the Slender sickness and paled effectively, seeing a couple of google images after the ads. Why…why was it so familiar?

He moved on, checking for the slender sickness and gawked gradually, slowly. 'wat do I do?' was typed after a long while of thought and realization he was a bit of an amnesiac.

'just get better' she typed. Crowley Fetch tried, laying about the area now and finally have a stop to his constant nosebleeding. But with this, he was tired at about only noon and took a shower to calm him down. He paused, staring at the bottom of his fiber-glass shower. There wasn't something right about this and besides, how was he home and not in the hotel when he woke up? Scott was here too… He'd ask later but, right now, a cold shower sounded nice.

Stepping in, he turned it one right there, shuddering at the bitter temperature before gradually getting used to it, tipping his head back and sighing. Just as he stepped out of the shower did he suddenly fall over, mind exploding with memories.

"Oh my God… Oh my God, oh my fucking GOD!" In seconds, he was back over at the computer, dripping wet with a towel wrapped around his waist as he typed fast and hard along his keyboard. 'Search for: Sexual Offenderman' appeared in the top bar, and he scrolled, seeing pictures (fanmade) of this beast and the story from whence it was created from. How was it real then!?

Scott sat by him, noticing his foot bobbing up and down in rhythm with nothing at all. Whining, he pawed at his lap and Crowley moved a hand over to pet him lightly. The pit bull relaxed a bit and soon just laid his head on his owner's thighs, sighing even. "Great. Now I know I was fucking violated."

"But you know you liked it~"

"Mother of-!" Both dog and man spun around, the dog automatically growling and barking at the new intruder that was sprawled along the older bed, arms behind his head and fedora tipped down.

"You look like you need a smoke." And he tossed the other a cigar, Crowley moving to catch it but dropped it just as quick. This caused the creature to laugh almost demonically, clutching his side. Scott whined now and ran out of the room, knowing that he did 'not' want to deal with this thing. And Crowley REALLY didn't want to.

"I felt your memories return so I decided to visit to see how you were recovering—oh! Not very good it seems~." He snickered, Crowley blinking cluelessly before touching at his face. However, before he could find the source of the Slender's giggles, a white appendage moved out from behind his back and carefully flicked under his nose. Almost instantly, afterward, the male clapped his hands over his face.

He felt more and more sick, watching the beast lick at the blood right there, but what was disturbing was the black tongue. Crowley wrinkled his nose before using his sleeve to keep it covered, remembering something more. "You said you would leave me alone if I accepted your offer."

"That I did but do you know how rare it is for someone like 'you' to remember 'me'?" In seconds, he had teleported and was now looming over the janitor, that eyeless face close to his own and his tongue flicking out over his neck. Instinctively, Crowley attempted to kick him in the stomach but a tentacle wrapped around his ankle. The next thing he knew, he was tumbling headlong on the bed and straight into the headboard.

"Ow! Mother fucking piece of-! Don't do that!" He held his aching head, feeling nausea return for another burst. Laying still caused the other to move over to lick at the back of his neck, causing him to roll away immediately. Or as best as he could.

"Just call me Smexy." Crowley groaned, facepalming soon afterward.

"Smexy… Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Now why would I? It gives you an easier management on my name since your brain is small."

"Why you-!" And Crowley jumped up, attempting to hit the other again but only succeeded in punching air and landing on his face. "I fucking hate you—ow! QUIT INTERRUPTING ME! AND STOP SLAPPING MY ASS." Smexy laughed again, unable to help himself before he was picking the other up by his wrists, arms above his head. It clearly hurt as he wiggled around but decided spitting on him was for later terms.

"I can't help that you're so easy to mess with. Hm~, here. Let's have a deal~." As another white tentacle wrapped around his leg, he gritted his teeth, jumping when another grazed his neck. "Another one?"

Smexy shrugged. "Can't hurt either of us. Or, well, maybe you~. How about this, you become my permanent fuckbuddy but I'll make you forget all of it each time? Deal?" Ugh. This was 'not' his cup of tea in the slightest and upon seeing Crowley's scrunched face, Offenderman only snorted and stretched his grin ever wider.

"Deal~?"

"…Fine." And he was dropped right back on the bed, that faceless creature looming over him once again with hands on either side of him.

"Then let's get started~."

**~End~**


End file.
